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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25700890">more than good enough</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/annamorris/pseuds/annamorris'>annamorris</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wynonna Earp (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Backstory, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, kinda introspective</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:26:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25700890</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/annamorris/pseuds/annamorris</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a long day, and Waverly would like to read. If Nicole happens to join her...well, that just might keep the shadows at bay a while longer.</p>
<p>Set between S2 and S3.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Waverly Earp &amp; Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>126</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>more than good enough</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After a day of tiresome revenant hunting, Waverly was perfectly content to flop on the Homestead’s worn leather couch, curl up under the heaviest quilt she could find, and finally crack open the memoir she had purchased on a whim nearly a month prior under the assumption that she would have some modicum of free time. </p>
<p>She couldn’t deny that she loved having Wynonna back, but her reading time had drastically decreased since her sister’s return. Suddenly, her spare moments were occupied with copious amounts of research thrust upon her by being Black Badge’s resident historian. Not that she was complaining. She reveled in the feelings of inclusion and importance working with the BBD brought her. The sense of loss and insignificance that followed her through her youth seemed to be fading, slowly but surely. </p>
<p>Her high school years had been spent attempting to wriggle out from beneath the crushing weight of her family’s infamous past. With every glare in the hallway, every pursed lip and dodged contact, she became a little more isolated from her classmates. So, she dove headlong into her studies, figuring that, maybe, if she worked hard enough, she could one day impress those around her. She kept up her charade until her junior year, acting as if she couldn’t see the stares, the hushed whispers from the underclassmen, who, each year, without fail, would gawk as she passed.</p>
<p>“Wait, is that her?”</p>
<p>“Oh my God, she’s the other Earp girl.”</p>
<p>Ever the stubborn one, Waverly simply held her head high and offered her award-winning smile. Secretly, she hoped that her grin would act as an olive branch of sorts, a peace offering, a show that “the other Earp girl” was as normal as they come. It never quite worked, though, and her attempts at kindness quickly became a tool of her peers. Being the Nicest Person in Purgatory had its price. In her desperation to eliminate her family’s reputation, she quickly gained her own: as the doormat. Those who saw through her ruse rapidly began to take advantage of her weakness - her deeply rooted desire to be liked.</p>
<p>Several of the girls in her year had apparently taken notice of Waverly’s academic prowess. One day, after school, Steph had approached her in the library, where she sat, studiously working on her biology homework. </p>
<p>“Hey, um, you’re Waverly, right?”</p>
<p>Waverly looked up from her textbook. “Why?” She asked, suspicion leaking into her voice. </p>
<p>“I was wondering if you might want to grab a shake at the diner with me and a couple of the girls from Lit this afternoon.”</p>
<p>Waverly sighed. “What’s the catch?”</p>
<p>“No catch!” Steph rushed. “We- I just thought you might want to have some friends. No offense, but you kind of sit alone all the time.”</p>
<p>“Not by choice,” Waverly muttered. She considered for a moment. What harm was there to be had? It was just a milkshake. “Yeah, okay,” she said.</p>
<p>“Great!” Steph twirled a blonde curl around her finger. “Meet you at four?”</p>
<p>“Sounds good,” Waverly smiled nervously.</p>
<p>She would soon discover that there was always a catch, especially where Stephanie and her friends were involved.</p>
<p>A question about the homework over a vanilla milkshake soon became tutoring, which soon became “oh-I’m-hopeless-can-you-just-do-it-for-me-this-once,” which soon became more than once, which became the norm. Waverly suddenly found herself swimming in her friends’ schoolwork. Not that she minded. What are friends for? She had a place to sit at lunch and people to talk to between classes. She joined the cheerleading squad. And, for the first time, people seemed to not care about her delinquent sister. </p>
<p>A month went by, and she was asked out on a date by a senior. It turned out that he only wanted her for her “tutoring services.” Steph and her girlfriends pushed Waverly and the town rodeo champion James “Champ” Hardy together. The two town sweethearts as each other’s sweethearts? It was a match made in the ring. </p>
<p>They went on a date, and he seemed nice enough. He listened when she talked and at least pretended to appear interested in whatever botany fact Waverly rattled off. She liked him well enough, and the whispers in the hallway turned from pitying to envious when she was on his arm. The months passed, and Champ graduated from the blue and white halls of Purgatory High. She managed to get him a job with her Uncle Curtis. </p>
<p>“Do you think, maybe, he could work for you, Uncle Curtis?” Waverly gave her best pout.</p>
<p>“Waverly, dear, you know I love you, but that boy of yours is about as smart as a box of rocks.”</p>
<p>Waverly shook her head. “But he passed his algebra class with a B!”</p>
<p>Curtis snorted. “No, you passed his algebra class with a B.”</p>
<p>Waverly begged, “Please, Uncle Curtis?”</p>
<p>“I suppose he can help me with the repairs…” the man conceded.</p>
<p>“Thank you, thank you!” Waverly flung her arms around his neck. </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, go do your homework,” he chuckled.</p>
<p>“I do have three biology essays to write. And that history project-“</p>
<p>“Three essays?”</p>
<p>“Well, there’s mine, then Steph’s, then-“</p>
<p>“Just,” Curtis sighed, “why’re you still doin’ other people’s work for them?”</p>
<p>“They’re my friends. I’m just doing them a favor.”</p>
<p>“That’s not… alright, Waverly.” Curtis resigned himself to the conclusion that there was no winning this particular argument.</p>
<p>Waverly’s senior year of high school flew by. When college application season arrived, Champ convinced her to stay in Purgatory with him. Who needs college when you have a boyfriend who loves you, he had said. He was right, Waverly reasoned. Besides, if she wanted to pursue higher education later, she could do so by correspondence. The remainder of the year was a blur. She missed her graduation at Champ’s insistence that he would make it up to her. He planted wet kisses along her neck as he presented his argument. </p>
<p>“I love you,” he breathed.</p>
<p>“Mhm,” Waverly replied.</p>
<p>She had gotten a job at Shorty’s bar right out of high school. Just because she couldn’t drink didn’t mean she couldn’t bus tables. Boredom set in just months into her post-high school life. She missed the hours she would spend nestled among the stacks of old books in the library, the scent of old paper and musty shelves enveloping her. Champ never liked the library. He said it was “nerd city,” at which point Waverly gently reminded him, with a tired sigh, that she was one of the city’s inhabitants. </p>
<p>“But, babe,” he insisted, “you’re not like them. You’re smokin’.” He pressed a sloppy kiss on her cheek from behind. “It’s, like, beauty and the brains, or some shit. And you’re all beauty,” he snorted. The comment stung a little. But at least someone saw her for something other than her bookishness.</p>
<p>The times she wasn’t working, her nose was buried in a tome chronicling the history of the region. She wanted to learn everything she could about her family’s storied past. The more she researched, the more her daddy’s stories seemed less and less like stories and more and more like reality. Guilt pooled in her stomach as she thought of Wynonna again. Her sister had been sent away, branded as crazy. But Waverly never quite believed the diagnosis. She had been there the night the men took Daddy and Willa; those doctors hadn’t. She knew what she saw. Wynonna had made her swear that she wouldn’t tell a soul, not wanting to risk her baby sister’s future in the small town. So, Waverly repressed the memories. But they always haunted her like a specter in the night.</p>
<p>The night her family was torn apart became her motivation. She redirected her sense of loss into sheer determination to find the truth. She took online courses in dead languages, contacted archives across the country, poured over yellowed newspapers day after day. </p>
<p>Her pastime irritated her boyfriend to no end. She would return to her apartment above Shorty’s, mumbling to herself about the name of another of her great-great-grandfather’s kills, at which point Champ would roll his eyes and guide her to the bed, where he would gripe and grumble about her “ruining the mood” with her distracted eyes. Waverly would apologize, kiss him sweetly, and do her best to make it up to him.</p>
<p>The first time she found out he was sleeping with another woman, she had been upset. He explained, exasperatedly, that he had been getting desperate, and that she couldn’t really blame him, could she? Most days, she came home, too tired to feel sexy. And besides, she ‘totally hadn’t been giving him the attention he deserved’ as her boyfriend, so he had to get it somewhere else. </p>
<p>The second time she found out he was cheating on her, she didn’t even feel mad. It was her fault, again, she supposed. She couldn’t blame him - only herself. </p>
<p>And that’s how it went for three years. Waverly would try her best to service her boyfriend, holding up her end of the relationship, and trying to be a good girlfriend, while he stumbled around town with any girl who would look his way. Then, one day, after her Uncle Curtis’s passing, a familiar face disrupted the pattern. </p>
<p>A sawed-off shotgun blast hit a pillow as the woman rolled off Waverly’s bed. “Worst birthday ever!”</p>
<p>“Wynonna?”</p>
<p>“Hey, sis…” the eldest Earp said sheepishly.</p>
<p>It wasn’t long before Champ attempted to break through the stubborn cold shoulder Waverly was giving him for trying to sleep with Waverly’s sister in Waverly’s bed. For fuck’s sake, a girl could only take so much. </p>
<p>Wynonna’s return meant that Waverly had her sister back, at least for the moment. She shared her research on the Earp Curse, which she was now allowed to speak about, much to her delight, and started working for Black Badge. She came to realize that the demons her daddy spoke of were definitely not whiskey-soaked delusions. She had nearly been hanged by three of them. Then Wynonna and Champ had been taken hostage, and Shorty had died. She found a skull in a piano and decided that she was sick of only being treated like beauty and brains were mutually exclusive. She broke things off with Champ and had rarely ever felt freer.</p>
<p>And then there was Nicole.</p>
<p>Nicole.</p>
<p>Nicole, who looked at her as if she had hung the stars, as though Waverly was the most precious thing in the room. Nicole, who didn’t care about her family’s reputation. Nicole, who saw both beauty and brains. </p>
<p>The lanky redhead had captured Waverly’s attention instantly, with her charming words and playful smiles. Just a look from her and Waverly’s heart would begin to beat faster. Her cheeks would flush, and her breath would catch. A touch would set her skin alight, as if every nerve ending had shut off except for the area where Nicole’s skin made soft contact with her own. Sometimes, Waverly would catch herself drifting off in Nicole’s presence, and Nicole would simply reach over and take Waverly’s hand, pressing gentle kisses against her knuckles with love in her eyes. </p>
<p>Nicole. </p>
<p>Nicole, whose unwavering support provided some semblance of stability in Waverly’s crumbling world. Nicole, who, with a single embrace, could soothe Waverly’s every worry and relax her tense muscles with a chaste kiss at the crown of her head. Nicole, who showed her how much she cared. With every caught gaze from across the room, checking to make sure Waverly was alright; every comforting hand at the small of Waverly’s back; and every gentle kiss, Nicole made her love known.</p>
<p>Heavy footsteps falling on the worn wooden steps of the Homestead reminded Waverly that she wasn’t home alone. Wynonna came tromping down the steps, classic leather jacket slung over her arm. </p>
<p>“I’m off to Shorty’s,” she said, snatching the keys to her bike from the hook by the door. “Don’t wait up.”</p>
<p>“Wasn’t planning on it,” Waverly said dryly.</p>
<p>“‘Night, babygirl.” Wynonna ruffled her sister’s hair, or rather, she tried to, since Waverly was thoroughly bundled beneath her blanket. Waverly vaguely heard the front door open and close. “Hey, Haughtstuff. She’s inside.” Wynonna’s voice came muffled from beyond the walls. </p>
<p>The door opened once and closed more. A quieter set of footfalls crossed the threshold and shed their shoes and coat, padding across the floor to the sofa. </p>
<p>“Hey, baby,” Nicole spoke softly, tugging the edge of the quilt away from Waverly’s face. </p>
<p>“Hey, yourself.” Waverly met her gaze with heavy eyelids. </p>
<p>Nicole brushed the baby hairs from Waverly’s forehead. “Wynonna texted. Said you’d both had a bit of a day.”</p>
<p>Waverly hummed her agreement.</p>
<p>“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me, but I figured-“</p>
<p>“I always want to see you,” Waverly cut her off, letting one hand emerge from its cocoon to entwine Nicole’s fingers with her own. “Why’re your hands so cold?” Waverly’s nose wrinkled.</p>
<p>“Well, the weather does this thing, sometimes, where the temperature drops, and the air outside gets colder…” Nicole teased.</p>
<p>“Okay, smart-butt.” Waverly rolled her eyes. “Just get under here.” She threw up an arm, lifting a corner of the blanket, and releasing a bit of her heat. She shivered as the burst of cool air hit her.</p>
<p>Nicole chuckled, “You can say ‘ass,’ baby.” </p>
<p>Waverly huffed. “Fine. Get your smart ass over here.” </p>
<p>“Let me start the fire first?”</p>
<p>“Then will you please join me? I’m letting all the warm air out.”</p>
<p>“'Course, baby.” Nicole pressed a kiss to Waverly’s brow as she stood from where she knelt and crossed to the pile of chopped logs the Earps stored next to the fireplace. Setting two gingerly against the other worn wood, she struck a match and lit the kindling beneath ablaze. Dusting her hands off, she turned to find her girlfriend watching her.</p>
<p>“What’re you thinking, Waves?”</p>
<p>Instead of a response, Waverly lifted her arm again, inviting Nicole into her warmth. Moments later, they had arranged themselves so that Waverly’s back was pressed against Nicole’s front, with Nicole’s arms wrapped around the smaller, chillier woman. Waverly yelped when Nicole’s frigid hand accidentally brushed against a patch of exposed skin on Waverly’s stomach.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Nicole winced.</p>
<p>“How is the rest of you so warm and your hands so cold?” Waverly felt Nicole shrug against her.</p>
<p>“You never answered my question.”</p>
<p>“Hmm?”</p>
<p>“What were you thinkin’ about?”</p>
<p>“You.”</p>
<p>“Me, huh?”</p>
<p>“Mhm.”</p>
<p>“Anything in particular? Or were you just admiring my smart ass?” </p>
<p>Though her back was to Nicole, Waverly could practically hear the smirk tugging at Nicole’s lips. The comment earned Nicole a playful swat on the arm. Her warm breath tickled the back of Waverly’s neck as she laughed. When Waverly still didn’t speak, Nicole amended:</p>
<p>“You don’t have to tell me. If something’s bothering you, just know that I’m here.” Nicole relaxed around Waverly, content to simply hold her, knowing that her presence was enough.</p>
<p>“It’s...it’s not that,” Waverly spoke quietly. The only sounds in the room were the crackling hearth and their breathing. Nicole hummed, acknowledging the admission but not pushing. That was another thing Waverly loved about her. Nicole knew just when to nudge her outside of her comfort zone, but she also knew when to hang back. She hadn’t pushed when Waverly needed time to recognize her newfound attraction, she hadn’t pushed when Waverly wouldn’t - couldn’t - tell Nicole about the curse, and she hadn’t pushed Waverly to voice her love, though Nicole had whispered sweet I-love-you’s in the cool dawn light on many an occasion. She had the ability to push Waverly just to the edge, enough to make her heart race, but she remained a steady, comforting presence to catch her if she fell. </p>
<p>Waverly nestled closer to Nicole’s heat, as Nicole ran nimble fingers through brown hair, unwinding snags and tangles. They lay there, enjoying each other’s presence for several moments before Waverly broke the silence.</p>
<p>“Thank you.”</p>
<p>Nicole shifted against her. “For what, Waves?”</p>
<p>“For...for being you?”</p>
<p>A gentle laugh ghosted the back of Waverly’s neck. “You might as well thank the trees for being green.”</p>
<p>“I’m serious, Nic. You’re just...so good.” Waverly rolled over and curled into Nicole’s chest, tucking her head below her girlfriend’s chin.</p>
<p>“To you? Or just in general.”</p>
<p>“Both!”</p>
<p>“Well, I sure do try.”</p>
<p>“Okay, so, maybe, I was talking more about being good to me. You...you’re just,” Waverly sighed, “you’re so nice to me. All the time. Even when I mess up.” Her face screwed up at the memory of her night at the spa with Rosita. “And you’re always there for me, and you’re so sweet, and even tonight! You dropped everything just to come sit with me because I had a bad day. And...and fudgenuggets, Nicole! I don’t know. I think about it all the time. And...and I just hope that I’m good enough for you, too.” The hand stroking Waverly’s hair froze.</p>
<p>“Where’s all this coming from, baby?” </p>
<p>“I’m…I’m not sure. I guess with everything going on, with Doc, and Wynonna, and Alice.” Her voice cracked. The arms around her squeezed a little tighter. “I...you almost died, Nicole. Twice. Because of my family issues. Sometimes...sometimes I can’t help but wonder if you’d be safer away from me - away from all of this.” Waverly felt a hot tear roll down her cheek. Her day had gone from nasty-run-in-with-a-revenant bad to doubt-everything-that-was-good-in-her-life bad, in which time, her mind preyed on the feelings of emptiness the past weeks had dredged up from the recesses of her conscience. An after-effect of demonic possession, she supposed. But the fears that the malicious parasite dragged to the surface were very real, fears Waverly hoped would never stray from the darkest corners of her thoughts.</p>
<p>“Oh, Waves…” Nicole murmured. She was silent for a moment. “Baby, I-”</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Waverly blurted. </p>
<p>“Waves, stop.” Her tone gave Waverly pause. It wasn’t disappointed or pitying or tired or any of the other normal responses she had been expecting. It was sad. And that was almost worse. Waverly bit back another apology. </p>
<p>“I’d understand if you want to leave, you know.” It came out barely more than a whisper.</p>
<p>“Waves…” Nicole was trying to keep her voice steady.</p>
<p>Waverly clutched the blue cotton of Nicole’s work shirt, choosing to focus on the plastic edge of a button pressing into her knuckle instead of the inky voices in her mind. She hoped Nicole would see the double meaning of the question. <em>I’d understand if you want to leave me.</em> </p>
<p>“Do you...do you want me to leave?” The uncertainty that lingered in Nicole’s words made Waverly’s heart ache. She wanted so badly for Nicole to stay. Could she not see that? Nicole must have taken her silence and vice-grip on her shirt as an invitation to stay. Waverly felt her relax.</p>
<p>“Waves, you’re...you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Waverly heard her breath hitch. “If you want me to leave, I’ll go, but I’ll be by your side as long as you’ll have me.”</p>
<p>“No, God, no.” Waverly’s words came out in a strangled gasp. “Please don’t go.”  </p>
<p>“I’m here, Waves, and I’m not going anywhere,” Nicole promised. Slender fingers resumed their task of untangling brown tresses. </p>
<p>“God,” Waverly dabbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, wiping away the streaks her tears had left, “you really are a walking Hallmark card, you know that?” She let out a weak laugh. </p>
<p>“So you sister has told me on multiple occasions.”</p>
<p>“How are you so positive all the time? It’s annoying.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but you know you like me,” Nicole teased. “Besides, have you seen yourself? You’re like a walking ray of sunshine.” Waverly tried to hide the blush that spread to her cheeks. Nicole looked down. “What? It’s true! Weren’t you voted, like, Happiest Person in Purgatory?”</p>
<p>“Nicest Person, actually. There was a sash,” Waverly said with a note of pride.</p>
<p>“Close enough. The whole town loves you. But,” Nicole pulled away so she could look into her girlfriend’s eyes, “that doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to have real, human feelings. You can be sad, or angry, or scared, or lonely. It’s okay if you fall apart. And I’ll be here to pick up the pieces. Always. For as long as you want me.” She punctuated her sentiment with the softest of kisses upon Waverly’s lips, the touch filled with unspoken emotion. </p>
<p>When they broke apart, Waverly shook her head, awe-stunned. “What did I do to deserve you?” </p>
<p>“Baby, I ask myself the same question every day,” Nicole chuckled. </p>
<p>“But what did I do to deserve this? Sometimes I still can’t wrap my head around the idea that this is what, well, that this is what relationships are supposed to feel like.”</p>
<p>“Mph, I doubt he even cared.” Nicole didn’t seem to realize what she had said. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Waverly; it just kind of slipped out, and I-”</p>
<p>Waverly laughed dryly. “Nic, it’s fine.” She exhaled heavily. “You’re right, though. Being with him never felt like this, even at the beginning, when it was all shiny and new,” she trailed off. “He wouldn’t be here. Right now, I mean. Like you are.” Above her, Nicole snorted her disgust. “I’m serious! You know, back when I worked at Shorty’s, guys would hit on me all the time, even when they knew I was with Champ. And they would always say,” Waverly’s voice dropped comically low, “‘You deserve better, Waverly’ and I would swat at them with a wet rag and remind them that I was taken. And-” she swallowed, “-and I didn’t realize that they were right until I met you.” </p>
<p>“They’re right, Waves. You deserve the whole world.” <em>And I want to give it to you.</em> Waverly caught the unspoken implication and held fast to it, warmth swelling in her chest. She nestled into Nicole, who drew absentminded patterns on the brunette’s back as if greater contact would enable her appreciation to diffuse through her skin. Nicole was here; she was staying, and she didn’t want to leave. Waverly, though fully prepared to spend the evening alone, grew increasingly grateful for her girlfriend’s presence in the homestead, curled up beside the heat of the fire, enjoying a moment of intimacy, which these days, were few and far between. She found that she would be happy to lie there forever, wrapped in the safety of Nicole’s embrace. It was her stomach that betrayed her. </p>
<p>“Are you hungry?” It was phrased as a question, but the mirth that danced through Nicole’s voice revealed that she already knew the answer.</p>
<p>“Um, yes?” Waverly said sheepishly.</p>
<p>“When was the last time you ate?”</p>
<p>Waverly thought for a moment. “Last night, I think? Or maybe yesterday afternoon...or morning?”</p>
<p>“Waves,” Nicole admonished.</p>
<p>“Hey! I was busy tracking down a literal demon for Wynonna to send to hell to prevent the freakin’ apocalypse.” She nudged Nicole’s shoulder playfully. Nicole raised an eyebrow but sighed in concession. </p>
<p>“Why don’t you shower, and I’ll make something?” She wrinkled her nose. “No offense, Waves, but you sort of smell like death.” </p>
<p>“I’d like to see you try to stay fresh while traipsing through the woods,” Waverly huffed, but she carefully disengaged from Nicole’s arms, pushing the blanket to the floor. She turned back to see Nicole smiling up at her from where she still lay on the couch. </p>
<p>“Go clean up, Waverly,” she said softly, “I’m not going anywhere.” Tension Waverly hadn’t noticed receded from her rigid form, Nicole’s words like a soothing balm. She somehow always knew just what to say. </p>
<p>“Hey, Nicole?</p>
<p>“Hmm?”</p>
<p>“I love you.”</p>
<p>Nicole grinned. “I love you, too.” </p>
<p>A feeling that could only be described as euphoria washed over Waverly. She climbed the rickety wooden stairs to the bathroom, Nicole drifting out of sight, warmed by the knowledge in her chest. She was more than good enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wrote this a while ago for a friend, and it's the first thing I've published in a hot minute. Is it a bit cliche? Perhaps. What can I say? I love a good trope.</p>
<p>Feel free to let me know what you think.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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